


A Sky of a Million Stars

by rocknrollravenclaw



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Catharsis, Daisy finally gets to deal with her grief, F/M, takes place between 4.10 and 4.11, yes I know I basically ripped off the resurrection stone from HP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 14:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknrollravenclaw/pseuds/rocknrollravenclaw
Summary: When Daisy interacts with a mysterious 0-8-4, she is confronted by the ghosts of Trip, Jiaying, and Lincoln.An angsty fic with a happy ending.





	A Sky of a Million Stars

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song "One More Light" by Linkin Park. Check it out - it's sad but quite beautiful.
> 
> Thanks to @marvelthismarvelthat on tumblr for being my beta!

The storage room was dark and empty, illuminated only by a single naked bulb. Daisy didn’t bother hunting for the light switch — she knew exactly where the 0-8-4 was being stored. Striding over to the wall of lockers, she opened one and retrieved the object inside.

It was a small cloth bag, smaller than she had expected; it easily fit in the palm of her hand. Daisy turned the bag over in her hands, the brown fabric rough against her skin. Pulling apart the drawstring, she grabbed the end of the bag and dumped the contents into her hand.

A perfectly smooth gray rock came tumbling out, settling perfectly into her palm. For its size it felt surprisingly light, though Daisy couldn’t see any indications that the rock was hollow. She inspected the rock, searching for any signs that it was more than it seemed — strange colors, an inscription, _something_ that marked this rock as the answer to her prayers.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had received word of an 0-8-4 in England a week ago, randomly found by a couple walking through a forest. Both of them had described experiencing hallucinations of people they’d known who had died whenever they touched the stone.

Coulson and Mace had sent in a small group of agents to recover the 0-8-4 and bring it back to the base for testing. Though much about its mechanics were still unknown, Fitz and Simmons had concluded that the object was definitely alien and appeared to work via telepathy, accessing a person’s memories and using those to create imaginary projections.

When Daisy had heard about the 0-8-4, she immediately grilled Fitz and Simmons for all the information she could. Simmons had smiled sadly at Daisy. “The stone creates _projections_ of those who have died, nothing more. You can’t bring Lincoln back to life.”

_I know I can’t. But I need to see him again, one last time._

Lightly rubbing the rock, Daisy drifted over to a nearby bench and sat down. The metal was cold and easily seeped through her skinny jeans. Without realizing it, Daisy began muttering under her breath. “Come on, come on, come on.” She had disabled the cameras for 30 minutes, looping old footage from the security cameras in the room, so that she could have this moment.

Was it just her imagination, or was the stone warmer? Daisy transferred it to her other hand, and found that it was indeed warmer. She glanced up excitedly. The room was as empty and as silent as a grave.

She waited, now jiggling her leg, boot heel tapping the ground. She didn’t know how much time was passing, but something should have happened by now. “Come _on_ ,” she urged. The silence seemed to press in around her, smothering her in its vastness.

Daisy checked her watch. 20 minutes remaining until the cameras reactivated. She stood up and began pacing. There had been no change in the rock, other than that initial temperature change; for all she knew, it had simply absorbed heat from her hand.

The silence lurked. Unwillingly, Daisy remembered nights at Saint Agnes. Each time a foster family returned her to the orphanage, she would cry herself to sleep, biting her knuckles to stifle the sobs, wondering what was wrong with her. Years later, as she slept alone in her new van, her arms breaking and cracking, she still instinctively remained silent, mouth stretched open in a soundless scream.

It was too much. She stood up suddenly and screamed, “COME ON!” Her voice fell flat and disappeared, dispersed into the air. Raising her arm, Daisy poured her power into her fist, ready to dash the rock to the ground and shatter it into dust.

“That’s my line.”

Daisy whirled around and stretched out her free arm, ready to quake whoever had startled her. But as her eyes took in the figure standing there, the voice fully registered in her brain. She exhaled and let out a soft sound, a mixture between a sigh and a whimper.

Trip was standing there, smirking at her like he belonged there, like Daisy hadn’t seen him crumble into hundreds of petrified chunks of stone. His glinting eyes, his infectious grin, his gleaming teeth, his coarse stubble — he seemed so _alive_. His hands were stuffed casually in the pockets on his jeans as he leaned against the object lockers.

“Trip.” She had been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for more than three years now, encountering everything from aliens to the actual devil (she still wasn’t sure what Robbie was, but he definitely was strange), and yet she found herself nearly speechless before the dead man. “You — you look great,” she said weakly, lowering her arm.

“That’s it? C’mon girl.” His smile widened, and that was all it took — Daisy couldn’t help but chuckle at Trip as tears began to fill her eyes.

“‘Great’ is pretty good, all things considered,” Daisy replied. “It’s been what, two years since-“

She stopped suddenly. _It was two years a month ago._ They had been planning a small celebration of sorts to honor Trip’s memory; but then the Eli Morrow situation had escalated, followed by AIDA’s sudden attack, the assassination attempt against Mace, and Daisy’s upcoming Senate hearing. In the chaos, the celebration had been forgotten.

Daisy felt a tear drip down her cheek as a dark panic seized her. _I’m the reason he died, and I couldn’t even be bothered to think of him for one goddamn hour. I should never have returned, I caused this, he didn’t deserve to die, but that’s all I ever do, cause people to get hurt . . ._

“We — we didn’t celebrate — oh, fuck . . . we were going to celebrate your life on the anniversary of . . . but we forgot.” Daisy sat down heavily and looked at her lap, focusing on her tightly intertwined fingers.

Out of her peripheral vision she saw Trip lean down and touch her shoulder; and though she knew he wasn’t actually touching her she swore she felt the warmth of his callused fingertips gently brushing her skin.

“You were out there saving the world,” Trip said, in his soothing yet assertive voice. “That sounds like a meaningful celebration to me.”

Daisy nodded, taking a deep steadying breath. The time had come to say the truth she had hid from after her transformation.

“I’m sorry I was the reason you died.” Daisy looked up, finding only gentleness in Trip’s eyes. “And . . . I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye.”

Trip slowly crouched before her, his face somber, his hand still on her shoulder. “Skye: from the moment I met you, I knew you were a fighter. Not just for yourself, but for good. I died hoping that you would live to change the world. It seems I made the right call.” A soft smile spread over his face. “And as for not saying goodbye — what do you think this is?”

Daisy thought back to the showdown against Morrow. There had been a moment when she had ejected all of the seismic energy she’d absorbed during the event — arms violently thrown back, face pressed to the sky, floating high above her city. She had felt weightless and free for the first time in many months, untethered from gravity and her burdens. Trip’s words made her relive the feeling.

“I just — I just wish we had more time,” she whispered.

Trip sighed. “So do I, believe me. But there’s someone else who wants to see you.” Rising, he moved to a corner of the room and leaned against the lockers, arms crossed.

From the doorway of the room came a pleasant female voice. “Hello Daisy.”

Daisy stiffened. She turned slowly, knowing she’d see her mother. Jiaying looked like she had when Daisy learned who she really was: a dark amber patterned dress with black sleeves, hair pulled back in a nice but messy bun, thin scars stretched across her face. Her smile was warm and inviting, just how Daisy saw it in her dreams.

Of course, she also saw Jiaying’s hands cupping her face as her mother sucked the life out of her. In these dreams, Daisy would struggle to break free as her energy was drained from her body, but was never successful. No matter what she did, it always ended with her dropping to the deck of the ship, the last thing she saw before she died her mother’s cruel smile of triumph.

As Jiaying advanced, arms open for an embrace, Daisy realized she was shaking. “Get the hell away from me,” she hissed, getting to her feet.

Jiaying stopped. “My child-“ she began.

Daisy _pushed_ , sending a wave of force out through her arms towards her mother. She could feel the blast vibrate the air molecules as it went through the apparition and threw a metal garbage can into the wall. It impacted with a loud clang and fell to the ground, spilling garbage all over the floor.

“I can’t hurt you anymore,” Jiaying said softly, a sad smile showing on her lips and in her eyes. “None of us can hurt you anymore.”

“Yeah?” The guilt and shame Trip had inspired in Daisy was completely gone, replaced by rage: rage at her mother, her father, at Lincoln, at the world for being uncaring. “Tell that to my nightmares.”

A small part of her realized that, as with Trip, she needed this encounter. She needed to vent her rage, and let her mother see how much pain she had caused.

Jiaying clasped her hands in front of her. “I have lived a very long life. But the best moment of that life, by far, was having you.” As she stood there, Daisy observed that her mother no longer carried herself like the assertive and commanding leader of Afterlife. Her posture was weak, her shoulders low; for the first time, her mother looked ashamed.

“When I was captured and tortured by HYDRA, I survived for you,” Jiaying continued. “I built Afterlife knowing that you would be gifted like me, and would need a place to become who you were meant to be. I traveled the world for _years_ trying to find you. When the trail went cold, I threw myself into work at Afterlife, mentoring many youth and adults, but never forgetting you. All I wanted was to see your face, and have you see mine.

“I won’t make excuses.” She straightened her shoulders and looked Daisy straight in the eyes. “I made you choose between me and S.H.I.E.L.D.; and when you chose the latter, I tried to kill you. I betrayed your trust in me.” Daisy could see Jiaying’s eyes growing moist, and she hated that that made the tears return to her own eyes. “I don’t deserve to call myself your mother. Daisy — Skye — I’m sorry.”

Daisy blinked. Instead of clearing up her emotions, Jiaying had only confused them further. Despite the nightmares, Daisy still recalled the days spent in peace at Afterlife: the joy she’d felt when she caused an avalanche, the frustrating training exercises, the uncomfortable yet sublime family dinner. She knew she could never totally hate Jiaying, because some piece of her would always cherish those days when she had lived the fantasy of having a mother who loved her with all her heart.

“I — I don’t know how to feel.” Daisy’s voice cracked. She was gripping the stone so tightly that her fingers began to ache. She wondered what would happen if she let go — would the ghosts suddenly vanish, or would they continue to exist, tormenting her battered soul?

She looked at Trip, then back to Jiaying. “Why you?” she asked. She held up the fist that held the 0-8-4. “I’ve known plenty of people who’ve died. Why are you two here?”

“Because you wanted us here,” Trip replied, still leaning against the lockers in the corner.

Daisy shook her head. “I’m glad you’re here, Trip, I really am. But I didn’t want _her_ ,” she said, gesturing at her mother.

“Yes you did. You just didn’t know it.” Jiaying straightened, and Daisy saw her mother compose herself, regaining her former commanding presence. “You needed to face us, for your sake.”

“But seeing you hurts, both of you,” Daisy whimpered. “And I’ve spent the past half a year hurting, and I’m tired of it. I’m _tired_ . . .”

“I know, baby,” Jiaying said. “I know.” She raised her hand to her daughter’s face, and Daisy instinctively flinched. But Jiaying only smiled sadly as she reached Daisy’s cheek; her hand cupped the skin without actually touching.

Daisy closed her eyes for a moment, slowing her breathing. Jiaying was right — she _had_ needed to see them, to tell them the sentiments that had churned in her gut for months and years. _No one can hurt me anymore._

“Daisy.”

And just like that, her newfound composure left her. It was _him_ , the one who had changed her life; the man who had loved her then left her.

She opened her eyes and turned to see Lincoln standing in the middle of the room, directly beneath the single bulb. The light turned his hair a beautiful golden brown. Daisy could practically feel the texture of his stubble against her lips, smell his strongly-scented deodorant. He looked so _real_ , so beautiful, standing there with a warm smile meant only for her.

But something was off. Usually she could feel the electricity surging and pulsing through him, a wild current demanding to be set free; but she could feel nothing. There were no vibrations running through him. He was simply an image, a hallucination — nothing more.

And that was the final straw. Daisy scrunched up her face as the tears finally poured down her face, a high-pitched sound of grief bursting from her throat. Silence be damned — she had suffered alone for too long. The whole world needed to know her pain.

And suddenly he was there all around her. Her eyes were clouded with tears and he moved soundlessly, but Daisy knew he was there. She couldn’t feel his power, but she could feel _him_. “Daisy, Daisy, Daisy,” he murmured, his voice filling her ears, giving her something to cling to. “I’m here, Daisy, just like you wanted.”

“I’m so s-sorry for not visiting you,” Daisy sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself, pretending they were his. “I j-just can’t feel you there. I can’t feel you anywhere.”

She had been to his grave once, after the funeral, hoping it might make her feel better. But it was pointless. At least with Trip they had shards of his body to bury — with Lincoln, there was nothing but the possessions he had left behind: some clothes, a few CDs, his stethoscope. After only a few minutes, Daisy had thrown down the flowers she’d brought and stalked away. It just wasn’t him.

“I know, I know.” As her vision began to clear, she could see Lincoln’s caring face only inches from her own. “You don’t need to go to my grave to visit me. I’m always with you, no matter what, in here.” He tapped on his chest.

Daisy chuckled, a watery sound. “That’s so cheesy.”

He let out a soft snort. “I know. But it’s true.”

Wiping away the tears from her eyes, Daisy scrutinized his face, looking at every detail — every strand of hair, freckle, and shade of brown was noted. She wanted to keep staring at it for hours until it was permanently etched into her memory.

After a few moments, she spoke. “I — I hated you, right after you died,” Daisy admitted, ashamed. “I thought . . . it was so unfair. How you could come into my life like that and then just _leave_.”

“Saving both the world and the girl I loved,” Lincoln reminded her.

“Yeah.” Her heart felt tight, like it was being squeezed, but she knew she had to get this out. She _had_ to heal, and this was the way to do it. “But it didn’t have to be you. It could have been any other S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” Daisy swallowed. “Why was it you?”

“It’s like I told you — that was the reason I was made an Inhuman. That was my purpose on Earth, and my redemption.”

“I can’t accept that.” Daisy suddenly rose and began to pace, agitated. “Raina said she was the thorn protecting the flower, which was me. Lash killed every Inhuman he met except for me. All of you died for me. Why me?”

There was some humor in Lincoln’s voice as he replied, “Do you really have to ask?”

Daisy stopped and looked at the three ghosts, who were now standing in a line, all looking at her. Goose bumps rippled down her arm.

“Why you?” Trip stepped forward. “Girl, you are the most incredible agent I’ve ever met. You could take out a squad of men without breaking a sweat. Hell, I bet you could take down HYDRA once and for all. Not only that, you’re brave. You took two bullets in the gut because you didn’t want Quinn to get away with what he did to Mike Peterson. Skye, you represent what S.H.I.E.L.D. is all about. Being hot is a bonus.” His tone was light, but Daisy knew he was being genuine, speaking from the heart.

“My daughter.” Jiaying stepped forward next. “During the short time I knew you, I could see that you had both the heart of a warrior and the head of a leader. You had the strength to demand justice, but the fragility to crave your parents. You threw aside the mother you wanted for so long because you knew you couldn’t stand by and watch others suffer.” Her mother smiled, bright and lovely. “Why you? Because how could it not be you?”

Daisy felt as if she was growing lighter and lighter. Their words were chipping away at the burden she carried on her back, in her gut, around her shoulders. She had thought she was here to speak, to make them listen to her — but it was Daisy that needed to listen, to let herself be comforted for once.

At last it was Lincoln, beaming like the sun, who approached her. “I stayed by your side when you were first brought to Afterlife, exhausted and in recovery. Gordon told me what had happened. The fact that you came here, not because you sought power or ambition, but because you didn’t want to hurt the people who were trying to kill you, amazed me. You saw the hate and fear people had for us, but you turned that into a determination to show them that they were wrong about us.

“You see the best in people, even me. You never gave up on me, even when I scorned your help and tried my best to disappear. You — you saw my potential, made me into a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. You were lost when you arrived at Afterlife, and I was lost when it was gone. I gave you an identity, and you gave me a home.”

Lincoln kneeled, his eyes never leaving Daisy’s face. “I’m just one star in a sky of millions. And look what you did to me — you made me shine. You made all of us shine,” he added, gesturing at the other two figures. “The world doesn’t need more darkness and misery. It needs light, and hope. And you, Daisy Johnson, are the one to bring that light and hope.”

She had never loved any of them as much as she did in that moment. All her life, Daisy had dealt with a cycle of finding a family and coming to love them, only to have them take her back to St. Agnes. Even though being part of S.H.I.E.L.D. had helped mend her abandonment issues, people still left her life. Ward betrayed her, Trip and Lincoln died, Bobbi and Hunter had to disown S.H.I.E.L.D., and Joey didn’t want to stick around. Daisy couldn’t help but feel a bit of rejection every time she lost someone she cared about.

It wasn’t fair to them. It wasn’t fair to her. None of it was fair at all — but that’s the way it was. What mattered was how she chose to move on.

A beeping sound issued from her pocket. Daisy pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. She had five minutes before the cameras turned back on; she would have to be nowhere near this room by then.

Storing her phone back in her pocket, Daisy surveyed the three people before her. They remained silent, as if waiting for her to say something. It was eerie how solid and regular they looked, when Daisy couldn’t see them breathing or hear their hearts beating. They were just projections of the people she loved — but that was good enough.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “All of you. I won’t let you down, not anymore.” A renewed sense of confidence surged through her, causing her limbs to slightly quake with excess energy. Daisy turned and searched the room until she found the drawstring bag, discarded on the floor. She held her fist over the opening of the bag, ready to drop the rock in its mouth, but found herself hesitating.

“Before we go,” Jiaying called her, her voice sounding strangely faint, “it sounds like you accepted the name Daisy Johnson. Why?”

Surprised, Daisy lowered the bag. She hadn’t been asked that question in a long time, and to have her mother being the one to ask was interesting.

“I named myself Skye because I couldn’t stand the name they gave me at the orphanage,” she began. “I was young, it sounded pretty, blue was my favorite color, all that jazz.” She fondly reflected on the first time she had heard someone call her Skye; it was like a whole new world of possibilities had opened up to her. “Since I was constantly moving between houses, I didn’t have a lot of stuff — but I had my name. That was mine.

“When Cal first called me Daisy, I rejected it _completely_. Why should I let a father I had never known, a monster who helped HYDRA and murdered innocent people, get to name me? But . . . then I had that dinner with you and him. And I saw who you would have been if HYDRA had never taken you away.”

Daisy bit her bottom lip, thinking of how best to phrase the sentiment. “Skye was . . . a girl who grew up tough, who learned computer science in order to make something of her life, who fought and bled for everything she had. And, ultimately, Skye was alone — a friendship here, a one-night-stand there, belonging to an anonymous community of hacktivists she barely knew. I guess Daisy represents who I’ve become. You and Cal were supposed to be my family, but you never were — and that’s not your fault, I’m not blaming you. But I found a family of my own. S.H.I.E.L.D. became my family, became everything you couldn’t be.”

She had spent months hiding from her family, thinking that all she did was cause them pain and misery. But the point of families was to help deal with that pain and misery. She didn’t understand how she fit into the new S.H.I.E.L.D. just yet, but she knew that she was definitely sticking around to find out.

Daisy looked at the three of them. “Daisy is a woman who has a family. She has their backs and knows they have hers. Daisy isn’t alone, because even when she’s far from her family, they’re out there trying to find her, or appearing as hallucinations caused by a stupid rock.” This caused the apparitions to smile. “Daisy Johnson may not be the smartest, healthiest, richest, most lovable person in the world, but she has a family — and that’s enough for her.”

She opened the drawstring pouch and dropped the rock in. As it slowly rolled over her fingertips and left her hand, the images began to fade. She watched them until the very end: the man she had flirted with constantly but never made a move on, the woman who had made her stronger through pain, and the man who didn’t have a cause until he met her. The last thing to go was Trip’s brilliant teeth, shining in the dimly-lit room. Then they were gone.

_But not really,_ Daisy thought, a half-smile on her face as she returned the 0-8-4 to its designated locker. _They exist in my memories, in my emotions, in everything that makes up me. It’s not the same as if they were alive, but it’s enough. I’ll make it be enough._

Cleaning up the trash spilled on the floor, Daisy took one last look at the room before flicking off the light. She went up the stairs towards her living family, keeping her entire family nestled safe in her heart.


End file.
